I
usually go with a theme for my Sunday Selections and this week we're seeing how my garden is progressing.

I found this quite large cutting of a white geranium on the footpath near a bus stop, so of course I brought it home. I do love white flowers.

my mint is coming back quite strongly, I'll get out there again soon and trim off the scraggly dead bits.

I don't remember what this is, but it's spreading now at a most satisfactory rate. I have two of them. There was a third, smaller one, but it seems to have wandered into a neighbours pot on her front porch....

the slightly different growth in the centre may be a flower stalk, we'll have to wait and see.

the single rosette I planted is now a small mound of many, can you see the tiny newcomer jut right and below of centre? These are quite small, the eventual size of the mound may be as big as a dinner plate.

the hoya I rescued from P's front porch isn't doing so well, the leaves are a sickly yellow instead of a lovely rich green. I sent an email to the gardening expert who writes a column in our Sunday paper, hopefully she will get back to me before the hoya gives up completely.

a virtual forest of bluebell spikes has appeared around the tree, no flowers yet.

once the bluebells die down again next autumn, I'll lift some of the bulbs and put them in this empty space. Eventually the tree will be surrounded by bluebells.

the tiny aeoniums I put in the birdbath have grown amazingly well. That soil is only four inches deep in the centre and very shallow around the edges. You can see how it has shrunk away from the edges with dryness, I watered straight after taking the photos. The first watering since last summer.

Many more of my freesias are blooming now, I don't see any white ones, maybe I didn't plant any. I'll have to get some.

I like this striped pink,

and this lovely strong yellow.

the taller black aeoniums are developing branches now. Wherever a flower appears on a stem, it will eventually grow outwards on a new branch as you see here. Like mini trees.

the aeoniums seen from above

this next photo is not from my garden, but I'm sure you'll enjoy it anyway :)

no-one's kangaroo paws are doing so much better than mine, which are only just beginning to show signs of flowers.

Saturday, August 27, 2016

Alas, poor Yorrick, I knew him well,What he died of is hard to tell.Something he ate must have caused his demise,Just what it was may be a surpriseWas it meat or fish, that fatal dish?Eggs or chicken, milk or cheese?Sprays on the veg, or bugs in the water?Salmonella in poultry, diseased cattle at slaughter?Perhaps it was brown bread, the latest of threats,He did seem so healthy, we'd best hedge our bets,The post mortem will tell at the end of the day,Just what it was that took him away.Till then perhaps best not to eat or drinkAs we could also be on the brinkOf a fate just like his, the unfortunate fellowAnd die of a fever, be it black, green or yellow.They've done the post mortem'Twasn't food irradiation,He'd heard all the reports, And died of starvation!(another one copied from who-knows-where and saved in the old envelope)

Each week we are given a
choice of prompts: which can be words, phrases, music or images.What we do with those prompts is up to
us:a short story, prose, a song, a
poem, or treating them with ignore...

Some of us put our
creation in comments on the post, and others post on their own blog.We would really like it if as many people as
possible joined in with this fun meme.

If you are posting on
your own blog - let us know so that we can come along and read your masterpiece.

I’m hopeless at poetry
so I always do a story.

It’s a fun challenge…why
not join in?

This week's words are:

1. fireflies

2. checkered

3. whistling

4. solemn

5. thermos

6. sliver

and this image, which I haven't used:

Here is my story:

Belinda's face was solemn as she stared through the window at the tiny sliver of moon, barely visible between the stormy clouds rolling in. She hadn't seen any stars tonight, and soon enough even the moon would be gone. It would likely rain well before bedtime and she looked forward to the downpour.It would match her mood perfectly.

She turned back to the ironing board and began smoothing the pile of checkered tablecloths and napkins. The "Hoe-Down" style reception had been a huge success, with hay-bale seating around the dance floor, the band and square dance caller, the checkered cloths on all the little round tables, lit by hurricane-style lamps such as might be found in a barn way out in the country.

The ironing finished, she moved down the hallway to pack all the napery back into the boxes supplied by her daughter Abby's catering company. Sebastian and Abby would be coming before lunch the next day to collect them.

Returning to the kitchen, Belinda poured the last glassful of punch from the thermos she'd saved it in, and listened to the wind as it rose, whistling around the eaves and across the porches. It was still summer, but there would be no fireflies out tonight.

Tears pooled in Belinda's eyes and began to trickle down her cheeks. The house felt so empty now, so quiet. Chrissy had been the last child and had left on her honeymoon with Steve as the reception began winding down.A new stage in Chrissy's life was beginning, and here at home, a new stage was beginning for Belinda too. She allowed herself this one night to feel down, to feel alone, to cry a little.

Tomorrow, the search would begin for a smaller home and a real estate agent to put this big five bedroom place on the market.

Thursday, August 25, 2016

I've just attempted to measure Angel, who is sprawled across my table.He wasn't completely stretched out, more relaxed, and had his tail curled around too; but roughly, from nose to bum he is a smidge under 60cm, then add his tail which is a bit over 30 cm.Earlier I saw him standing at attention by the big flowerpot and noticed his ears were above it by about 5cm, so I went out later to measure that distance. When standing with head held up listening, from ground to ear tip, Angel is close to 40cm high. I'm not sure about ground to shoulder measurement.No wonder he takes up so much space when he is stretched across my bed or table.

quotes from who-knows-where(I found the notes in an old envelope when clearing out stacks of old magazines)When I was a kid I thought grown-ups never worried about anythingI figured that once you grew upyou automatically knew what to doin any given scenarioI don't think I'd have been in such a hurryto get to adulthoodIf I'd known the whole thing was going to be ad-libbed.Recipe for a DreamTake one dream. Dream it in detail.Put it in your own hands. See its final outcomeclearly in your mind. Then mix it with a little effort and adda generous portion of self-discipline. Flavour it with a wholesomepinch of ambition. Stir briskly with confidence until the mixture becomesclear, the doubt separated from the resolution.Then bake at an even temperature until the dream rises and is firm to touch.Decorate with individuality. Cut into generous portions and serve with justifiablepride. Approached in this manner, life is a piece of cake.

I've been trawling around the real estate sites, as I do, and I found this>>

Maybe I'm being too fussy, but shouldn't a bathroom get cleaned before a photo is taken? I sincerely hope this isn't the cleaned version.

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

You'll all be pleased to hear that Angel's claw wound is completely healed and the hair is beginning to grow back over it.Yesterday I witnessed him hissing like a wild cat at his 'friend' from across the driveway, when the friend wanted to join him on our front porch.

Usually they will share the sunny porch, but stay at opposite ends, so I think perhaps B was the one who lost his claw in Angel's shoulder.